


A Simple Request

by tendervittles



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 16:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20156404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendervittles/pseuds/tendervittles
Summary: Lord Ramsay commands, Reek obeys.





	A Simple Request

**Author's Note:**

> My old account was hacked and deleted so this is me reposting everything.
> 
> This was originally written in 2014.

It's a simple request, Reek. You wouldn't want to make me angry now, would you?

Reek certainly didn't want to make Lord Ramsay angry. An angry Ramsay would lash out quick as a whip, and twice as painful. He would strike Reek and kick him. He would yell loudly and for so long that his face would flush pink like the field behind the flayed man on the Bolton banners.

The yelling bothers Reek the most; he's endured so much pain during his stay at the Dreadfort that another bruise or cut means nothing to him. In some ways, it's a relief. Lord Ramsay likes the way Reek bleeds and whimpers and cries (but never begs for Ramsay to stop, not anymore).

The yelling, though. Yelling means Lord Ramsay is more than angry, he's disappointed, and Reek dismays at disappointing the man he serves, the man who taught him his name.

So he obeys.

Reek approaches the bed with slow, halting steps. As ever, he is unsteady on his feet. He reaches out an arm and places a maimed hand on the featherbed for support. His skin is translucent and stretched tight over brittle bones. He feels the usual disconnect from his limbs and the rest of his body. Reek only feels when -and - what Lord Ramsay wants him to.

He drops himself onto the bed. The mattress is barely jostled at all; Reek weighs hardly anything and Lord Ramsay is already reclined there, his mass and presence steadying his most loyal servant.

There is nothing to do but execute his lord's command.

On hands and knees, Reek crawls across the bed to where Ramsay rests. Â His lord lies on his back, thick legs crossed at the ankles, hands folded behind his head. He has already undressed.

Even the fine silk fabric of the bedclothes irritates Reek's scabby knees and he is relieved to finally come to stop beside Lord Ramsay's relaxed form.

"Well? What did I say, Reek?

Reek felt the blood rush to his face. Ramsay's face split into a brutish grin; he loved making Reek blush. It was one of his favorite pastimes.

"Hmmm?" Gray eyes twinkled hungrily.

At least Lord Ramsay looked happier now; a pleased Ramsay was somewhat less likely to hurt or speak harshly.

Ramsay was still waiting for an answer. For Reek to repeat his lord's command.

"Y-You commanded - asked - me to snuggle - snuggle you with you..." His voice trailed off and Reek couldn't maintain eye contact, but nonetheless Lord Ramsay appeared satisfied.

"Well?" He asked, unclasping his hands and patting the place next to him on the bed.

"Yes my lord." Reek murmured, eyes still downcast. This was the hardly the most intimate moment he and Ramsay had shared in their time together, yet it was shaping up to be one of the most excruciatingly uncomfortable. Lord Ramsay's lack of explanation for his strange request made it all the worse.

Not that Ramsay owed Reek an explanation, of course. The lack of clarification still nagged at him, but it wasn't Reek's place to ask questions. His lot was to obey Lord Ramsay in everything, without question.

So Reek shuffled over to his master's side and laid down beside him. Ramsay looped an arm around Reek's side, his hand coming to rest on a protruding hip.

Encouraged, Reek shifted closer, until half his torso rested on Lord Ramsay's broad chest. His head was tucked under his lord's chin. Reek lifted his face nuzzle Ramsay"s neck. Then he shifted, struggling to maneuver into a position where one arm didn't threatening to lose all sensation.

In another life, he had done this with dozens of women, hadn't he?

For his part, Lord Ramsay didn't snap or criticize. He let Reek move as he would, which made things easier.

Reek ended up propped up against the pillows, Ramsay lying against his sunken chest. The added weight made breathing more challenging, but Reek didn't mind. The pressure was almost comforting and heat radiated off his lord's body to warm him. It was a strange remedy, but one Reek was in no position to refuse or examine.

Tentatively, Reek moved his arms to encircle Ramsay in his embrace. The bigger man sighed and burrowed his face in Reek's chest. He was lying on his stomach now, so Reek lifted a hand and gently, ever so gently, ran his remaining fingers through Ramsay's long hair. It was surprisingly soft, and an unexpectedly calming experience for Reek.

Captivated, Reek continued to stroke Lord Ramsay's hair, even letting the few fingertips left to him massage his lord's scalp. It had to be very strenuous work, keeping his lord father's household. The Dreadfort had many servants to be looked after, plus dogs and horses, the two Walder Freys, Lord Ramsay's men and the token force of old men and green boys Roose Bolton had left behind when he went south. It was Reek's job to relieve Lord Ramsay's tensions, in whatever form they took.

Reek let his lips twitch up into something that might've looked like a smile. It was a bit of a daring move, but when Reek looked down at Lord Ramsay, he found his lord breathing slowly and evenly, fast asleep.

With his task fulfilled, Reek let his eyes close as well. Maybe he too would sleep peacefully tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter @_tender_vittles


End file.
